


Storm of Corruption

by TheGreyMage14



Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic, swtor - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen, I think there's gonna be a little blood, and some gore, but nothing super violent, do you like blood, then again i'm numb to violence, woop woop crime shows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-10-26 17:37:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17750426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreyMage14/pseuds/TheGreyMage14
Summary: We all know how that story goes. One minute you're just a simple Sith Warrior on a stealth mission to steal a potentially game-changing holocron belonging to Sorzus Syn the unhinged Sith Alchemist lady from a smuggler who just wants to pay off her debts, dammit; the next, everything goes to hell.Unfortunately, Sith Lord Exahlia (and apprentice of Darth Baras) has been placed in this exact situation. It's not fun. To make matters worse, she'll need to rely on an unconventional ally to race against the clock and fix things before she loses her head. Both figuratively and literally.





	1. A Mission Beckons

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just going to start this off by saying hi. How ya doin? 
> 
> My good friend Mage has been courteous enough to let me use her account to upload my SWTOR fic. Why? Well, because it's the only one I'm ever going to write, and I don't want to take some poor schmuck's spot on the waiting list since this is all I'm gonna be doing. (Also, browsing through the ToS don't seem to prohibit this, in fact they allow it for those who are underage to have older people with accounts post their stories. I am definitely of age, though (spent my 21st b-day babysitting all night, heck yeah).)
> 
> Also, she came up with the title. So kudos to her. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm terrible with this whole tagging thing. Mage, I'm so sorry xD but I promise there's nothing overly bad, and I'm confident I hit all the important ones.
> 
> -Blue
> 
> P.S. this whole thing takes place before like, Hoth. Or whenever you get Broonmark. I don't like Broonmark. That's why it takes place before then.

**Location: Dromund City, Dromund Kaas**

Exahlia stepped off the speeder, her nose wrinkled. The Pureblood despised the Imperial capital for many reasons, but the rain continued to be at the top of her list. The rain, and humidity, and overall… _wetness._ She absolutely loathed it. Korriban was more her climate. At least the dry heat didn't make her hair feel as though it was made of kelp. 

“Forgive me for saying as such, my lord, but you look as though you've just had a taste of something foul.” The young woman curled her lip at her companion. 

“This whole planet is foul, Captain. I don't understand why Baras would wish to meet with me in person over this… remind me again?”

“A retrieval mission, though retrieval of what remains to be seen.” Malavai Quinn: formerly disgraced Imperial Captain, then intelligence spy for Darth Baras (probably still was, if Exahlia had to be honest), and now one of her most trusted companions. Being a Sith meant being constantly on guard against attacks and sabotage, but the Pureblood had found herself more...relaxed around him, she supposed. 

Which, she thought amusedly, would make him the perfect choice for an assassin, or bargaining chip. 

“Did I say something funny, my lord?” His voice cut through her thoughts like a knife. 

She blinked. “Merely a thought of mine, Quinn.” As they neared the entrance to the Citadel, the Sith paused and glanced at her fellow. “I'm going to be very upset if this meeting turns out to be much less important than it was made out to be.”

“In that case, my lord, I will instruct Vette to ready the sparring dummies.”

“You just know all the ways to my heart, don't you Quinn?” Hiding a smirk at the flustered captain, Exahlia strode on in, her chin high and her shoulders squared, ponytail bouncing with her gait. 

It was time to see what her Master wanted. 

The Sith Lord strode into the office, Quinn on her heels. She steeled her thoughts, tampered down her own deep, personal opinions of her Master. Rumors were merely rumors, but it never hurt to assume Baras really _could_ read minds. Because even if he couldn't, she could guarantee someone else _could_ , and that was something she wanted to be prepared for. 

Her Master stood at the window in his office, looking out at the dreary landscape. “Ah, my apprentice,” he greeted without turning. “I have a new assignment for you.”

“Quinn told me it was a matter of utmost importance, Master?”

“Indeed.” Baras finally turned to face his apprentice. “It is too delicate a matter to risk holo comms being compromised.” He touched a button on his desk and a holo image of a square item showed up. “Tell me, my apprentice, do you know what this is?” 

“Some type of datacron, I take it.”

“A holocron, to be precise. Supposedly a lost one of Sorzus Syn, the first great Sith Alchemist. The Council presumed at first to have had all of hers in our collection, but rumors have surfaced that there is a new one that's been uncovered.” Another image appeared, showing a heavily-scarred female Twi'lek. “This Twi'lek is the small-time smuggler who supposedly possesses the holocron. Her name so far as we have surmised is Vrei'vrimera, though she's also been known to go by the the pseudonyms 'Maug’ and 'Rylothian Monkey Lizard.’” Quinn and Exahlia exchanged looks. “She's wily, but not a fighter. Your biggest issue should be finding her, after that things ought to be simple enough.”

Baras refocused his attention on her, his gaze causing Exahlia's spine to prickle. “I do not want my rivals or the Republic getting ahold of this device. Nor do I want to risk any potential leaks.” The Darth held up a datapad, sliding it towards the pair. “Captain Quinn, this has all of the information my network has managed to gather on this subject. It is not as much as I'd like, but there should be enough to work off of.” He clasped his hands behind his back again, looking between the two. “Any questions?”

“Will we need to retain radio silence?” Exahlia asked. 

“That is obvious, yes. However, occasional reports on your progress would be welcome. A currently secure channel is also included on that datapad.” 

The Pureblood merely dipped her head in understanding. “I would assume, then, that speed will be of the essence.”

“You would assume correctly. Now, if there are no other obvious questions, I have other matters to attend to.” 

“Of course, Master.” She and Quinn gave Baras a quick, respectful bow before turning to leave. As they reached the door, however, the Darth spoke up one last time.

“Lord Exahlia, you've succeeded in every mission I've given you thus far. Don't make this your first failure.” 

Though the young woman kept her composure, a chill coursed through her body. She understood the message beneath his words; there would be no second chance. “I shall not, my Master.”


	2. There Is Already A Bath Scene Because Kark You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes! There's a bath scene! Nothing too scandalous, trust me, but I didn't want to take any risks with the rating. Also, yeah, aside from getting clean, this chapter also focused on introducing more characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not good with summaries.
> 
> Also.
> 
> I have up to chapter 9 written. If you want to leave feedback, feel free! And if you want to leave suggestions for future chapters, feel free! Just keep in mind this is semi-kinda already written, so it may be difficult for me to actually incorporate what anyone requests.
> 
> -Blue

**Location: The Deadly Nexu, Exahlia's personal ship**

The entire trip back to her ship consisted of silence. Seething at the subtle humiliation she'd been subjected to by her Master, Exahlia refused to engage in any attempts of conversation from Quinn, causing the poor man to eventually give up and read the datapad given to him by Baras. 

The Pureblood would not have survived this far if she hadn't been able to put a leash on her arrogance and overestimation of her abilities. Perhaps her few questions were obvious to Darth Paranoid, but for her, it never hurt to check. Otherwise, there would have been issues arising from breaking radio silence, at the very least. _Sue me for making sure_ , she thought bitterly. 

It wasn't until the pair reached the airport that Quinn tried to talk to her again. 

“My lord, forgive me for asking but, did I miss something in the briefing? You have been irritable since we left. Is it the mission?”

“No,” Exahlia snapped, but at the look on his face she attempted to soften her tone. “It's not the mission, captain.”

“Then what? I cannot help you if you don't tell me what is wrong.” 

Her temper quickly flared again. “Who said I wanted your help?” So much for softening her words. The Sith stormed up the boarding ramp, her footsteps clunking loudly. No doubt the entire ship would be able to hear her arrival. 

“Ah, Glorious Master! I want to let you know that I've restocked the food supply, and even made sure to include--” 

“2V! Instead of prattling on, draw me a bath immediately,” she barked, cutting the droid off. “I will be in my quarters.” The Pureblood stomped off, brushing past Vette without any word. 

The Twi'lek and Quinn watched their boss leave. “Sheesh, what's the matter with her?”

“I'm not sure, Vette. _I_ thought our meeting went fairly well.”

In the master bedroom, Exahlia’s things were haphazardly thrown about. Lightsaber hilts and comms unit on the bed; boots kicked off by the door; clothes tossed somewhat close to the floor of her closet; and gloves chucked at her desk. Once she was completely stripped, the Sith walked to her vanity mirror. Taking her hair down and removing her jewelry and piercings with an efficiency that bespoke of practice, Exahlia finally paused long enough to examine herself in the mirror.

High cheekbones, aquiline nose, pronounced bone spurs, glowing orange eyes and dark red skin - she was a proud member of one of the purest Sith families in the Empire. She was the product of many years of careful breeding and cultivation, a fine specimen indeed. In her mind, she was exactly what a sentient predator was - beautiful, and deadly. 

And one day, powerful enough to overthrow her bloated Master in order to take his place. 

_Perhaps even become Emperor myself._

The thought startled her. Where had that come from? Exahlia was no doubt ambitious, but she was also pragmatic. There was no way she'd ever take over as Emperor of the Sith, and even if the opportunity arose, she'd pass. Power was good, yes, but too much would get her killed; and Exahlia planned to have a nice long life. 

“My illustrious Master, your bath is ready for you. I have even made sure to include your Jogan extract bath soap.” 2V’s voice crackled over her private intercom. The Sith walked over to reply. 

“Good, 2V. I'll be there shortly. Send Vette in to speak with me.” Using the Force, Exahlia pulled over her bath robe, put on her sandals, and headed towards the 'fresher for a nice, hot bath. 

When she arrived, the young woman closed the door, though she deliberately left it unlocked. Kicking off her shoes, she walked up to the side of the tub and allowed her robe to slide off. The Sith closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she enjoyed the thought of her relaxing bath. She honest-to-gods needed one, had been desperately needing one since that nasty business on--

“ _Wowee_ , never thought I'd be seeing a naked Sith in my lifetime.” The shrill voice of her Twi'lek companion pierced through Exahlia's thoughts. Without turning, the Pureblood stepped into the water. 

“Now you can cross _that_ off your bucket list, I suppose,” she rumbled, sinking down carefully. The hot water left a pleasant tingling sensation on her skin, and she let out a content sigh. “Just remember that a naked Sith can still kill you.”

“Good thing I'm too useful yet to kill!” Vette chirped. “Say, what's a girl gotta do to get a tub of her own?”

“Become a Sith Lord and kill anyone who gets in your way.” 

“Fair enough. Anyway, what'd you need me for? I'm assuming not to compliment your figure, although I gotta say whatever regiment you're using must be amazing because--”

“What do you know of a smuggler named Vrei'vrimera?” 

Vette blinked at the interruption, but recovered. “Not much off the top of my head, why?”

“We have been tasked with finding her, and given what little of a reputation she has, it'll be difficult without underground help.” 

“Sure, I can put out a few feelers, chat to some old buddies of mine who'd know. Whaddya got on her?” 

“Quinn will debrief you with what you need to know. Once you're done talking to him, direct Lieutenant Pierce to fly us to whichever planet you think would be a good start. Oh, and where has my apprentice gone off to?”

“Jaesa? Oh, I'm sure she's probably getting tipsy in some scummy Kaas bar. I can summon her back but, if she's on the edge of blackout drunk, I'm sending Pierce after her.”

Exahlia simply nodded. “Very well. One last thing, send the captain in once you're done being debriefed. I'd like to talk over the mission with him.”

“Oh, mhm, _sure_ , just talk, I'll let him know.” 

The tone of Vette's voice prompted the Pureblood to lazily open one eye, her sharp gaze boring into the Twi'lek's head. Her voice as cold as the Emperor's heart, she asked, “Is there something you'd like to _share,_ Vette?”

“Uh, nothing! Going now!” 

Exahlia waited until the tips of her lekku vanished out the door before relaxing again. She should've expected Vette to notice something; the Twi'lek was as sharp as a whip, with sass doubly so. That said, the woman wasn't too concerned about her letting something slip; for all her chattiness, Vette was rather good at keeping a secret. Moreover, she owed Exahlia; were it not for the Pureblood's decisions, the Twi'lek would no doubt be the sex slave of some crusty Darth or Moff, or even a Hutt. Instead, she was the traveling companion of a (somewhat) merciful Sith, with no shock collar, and a fairly steady income. 

“You asked to see me, my lord?”

“I did.” Without opening her eyes or raising her head, she lifted a hand to gesture at Quinn. “Shut the door behind you, then come close.”

“Yes, my lord.” He did as instructed, stopping a foot away from the tub.

Arm still propped up on the ledge, Exahlia crooked her finger. “No, Captain. Closer. Kneel down beside me.”

“M-my lord?”

This finally prompted her to crack open one eye again. “You heard me.” 

Ever so carefully, the man did as he was told. No sooner had his knee hit the floor, Exahlia sat up, reaching her hand out to gently but firmly grasp his chin. The woman closed the space between their heads, their mouths getting closer and closer -- until she stopped, her lips barely parted as they waited, mere centimeters from his. Her breath was hot on his skin. He felt confused at first, frozen in place, but a heartbeat later the Captain realised what Exahlia wanted. She was awaiting permission from him -- permission to take what she so desired. 

Without a second thought, Quinn closed the gap, their lips pressing together in a sweet and tender kiss. He was always left a bit flabbergasted at how such a vicious and lethal creature could carry out such a delicate and seemingly caring motion, not only once but several times. His eyes closed, the man reveled in the euphoria of the moment, enjoying every single second. 

But as all good things do, it had to end. After what felt like ages, the Sith pulled away, her hand still holding onto his chin. With half-closed eyes, much like a feline's, Exahlia studied his face, her thumb gingerly rubbing over the flesh of his mouth. Almost on impulse, Quinn's hand moved towards her, fingertips slowly trailing up her forearm. 

His heart hammered in his chest, the beating so strong and fierce he was almost certain she heard it. The Captain still wasn't sure what to make of their relationship-- it was like courting a nexu-- she was formidable, and quick to anger, just like all Sith he knew, even Baras-- yet somehow she was different, different enough to stand out in her own way-- perhaps that's why he took an initiative now-- testing the waters--

Quinn paused at her wrist, fingers loosely encircling it. Just as she had with the kiss, he awaited her permission to take what _he_ desired. Fiery orange eyes flicked to the side before locking onto his ocean blue ones. His breath caught in anticipation, hoping he hadn't pushed the limits while chiding himself for behaving so foolishly. He was lost in those eyes, those eyes of fire and lava. A little smirk darted across her face, so fast he almost didn't catch it.

Without a word, Exahlia slid her calloused fingers between his soft ones, laying back into the water as their hands clasped. “There is a stool behind you, if you'd rather sit on that instead.” Her voice was gentle and low, a complete opposite of earlier. _It seems the warm bath smoothed out her temperament,_ he mused. 

Hand still firmly grasping hers, Quinn leaned back and pulled it close enough so that he was able to sit comfortably. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Use my name.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, use my name. Not around others, of course, but when it's just us… well, I think we've quite already surpassed using first names in private, don't you think?” 

He had to admit, she made a good point. “Apologies, m-- Exahlia. Using formalities is a hard habit to drop.” 

The ghost of a smile flickered across her lips like candlelight in a breeze. After a moment's silence, she spoke up again. “Do I scare you, Malavai? Or, perhaps not that, but intimidate. Do I intimidate you?” 

Quinn was about to say no, but caught himself. There was no use in lying to her; she'd see right through it. “Perhaps a little,” he admitted. “All Sith do, to some extent.” 

Much to his startlement, the woman gave him a deep frown. “I enjoy making you flustered, Malavai, but I would never do anything to intimidate you on purpose. You're too important.” A warm feeling spread across his chest, and he could feel his face become flushed. Quinn understood the underlying implication of her words, and struggled to fathom it. He had not expected such an admission from her, especially since--

The Captain let out a cough. “I suppose we ought to get onto business, now.” 

A sound of amusement bubbled up in Exahlia's throat, and she tucked her free hand behind her head. “Yes, yes, of course. Please debrief me on what my Master gave you.”

“Right.” Slipping into his familiar role, Quinn gave the Sith a quick rundown of the facts. “As already known, the holocrons of Sorzus Syn were all thought to be recovered. However, about a month ago some Sullustan pirate let slip to an Imperial spy that he had come into possession of yet another holocron from Syn. Before anyone could move in for retrieval, the pirate was found slain in his room. The holocron, unsurprisingly, was gone. Then, two weeks later, whispers were heard that our smuggler had somehow managed to get her hands on it, and planned to give it over to a Hutt as a way to repay her debts. However, none of our people were able to get close enough to her or the holocron to determine whether or not it's fake.”

“So our job is to retrieve it in the event it's real? What do we do if it's a forgery?”

Quinn shrugged. “Throw it out of the airlock, I suppose.”

Exahlia scowled, stretching her feet so that her toes stuck out of the water. “So we may or may not be chasing after and putting all this effort into retrieving a fake?” 

“We've faced worse for less,” he reminded her.

Brows still furrowed in a scowl, the Sith sunk into the water until her nose was submerged. She continued to hold onto his hand, still for a moment. Then, without warning, she released a sharp exhale, causing bubbles to burst out of the water. The suddenness, coupled with the absurdity of the situation, caused Quinn to let out a bark of laughter.

Exahlia curved an eyebrow at him, lifting her head up to glare at him. “Oh, I see how it is.” Her muscles tensed up, and the Sith exerted all of her strength to pull his sleeved arm into the soapy water. 

Caught off guard by her form of retaliation, the Captain jerked his hand away. His entire sleeve was soaked up to his elbow, and the unpleasant feeling caused him to curl his lip in disgust. Gloating, the Pureblood extended both of her hands towards his wet one, and he allowed her to take it, albeit hesitantly. Quinn wasn't in the mood to be completely drenched in -- he gave a subtle sniff -- water that smelled like Jogun fruit. 

Instead of pulling him under, though, she merely used him to stand up. He tried very, very hard not to notice the water running down her skin, nor her lean muscles, instead focusing intently on her face. A devious and triumphant light shining in her eyes, Exahlia brushed a hand against his cheek and purred, “That's what happens when you laugh at a Sith, you maggot.” 

“I'd take being dunked in a bath tub and referred to as a maggot over what the other Sith would do, any day.” His voice was low, soft, hesitant to disturb this brief moment of blitheness. They were so rare nowadays, and he treasured them when they occurred. 

In response, she let out a snort and pulled him close. One of the bony protrusions on the side of her cheek poked his flesh as she pressed her face against his shoulder, but he said nothing. As her arms wrapped around his body, and his (awkwardly, she was still rather wet) around hers, Quinn wondered if the displays of affection she was giving him were her way of apologizing for earlier. Not that it mattered too much, he was enjoying it all the same. 

They stood there for an eternity. They weren't Imperials; they weren't a Sith and her Captain. They weren't anything except two people who craved some form of pure, beautiful intimacy. The kind of intimacy that would hopefully outlast this cold war with the Republic. 

“Vette knows. Or at least, she suspects.” 

Quinn gave a little start. “What should we do?”

“Nothing. If she's half as smart as I'd assume she is, Vette won't say a word. Just be ready to deal with smartass witticisms and subtle jokes dropped.”

“Duly noted.”

Exahlia pulled away from his embrace. “It's probably time for you to go back out and make sure Jaesa has managed to drag herself onto the ship. Oh, and change your shirt.”

“Er, right.” He stepped back so that she could get out of the tub. The Sith waved a hand, and the water began to drain. She then reached for her towel, but Quinn beat her to it. “If Jaesa is back, what would you like me to do?” 

“Depending on her level of inebriety, send her to her quarters or the med bay. I would prefer to speak to her myself.”

“Understood, my l- Exahlia.” He gave her a quick bow of the head and exited the refresher. 

Quinn rolled his sleeves up, too caught up in reliving what just happened to notice Vette coming around the corner. 

“Hey, watch it!” 

“Oh-- apologies, Vette, I didn't see you there.”

“I can tell.” Her blue eyes narrowed in suspicion at the Captain. “Were you just now leaving the refresher?” 

“How is that of any relevance to you?”

“Hey, hey, just asking is all.” A sly smile appeared, and the Twi'lek tossed him a wink. “I see your uh, arm is all wet. I didn't take the Dark Lord of Somberness for someone who likes to--” 

“That's enough, Vette. Where's Jaesa?”

“Med bay, barely conscious. Thank the stars she didn't kill someone this time. Why?” 

“Lord Exahlia needs to speak to her.”

“Mmhm, but I'd recommend changing that shirt of yours first. Unless you like having a wet arm.”

Quinn did not respond, choosing instead to shoot her a dark look before huffing off. This was not going to be a fun time. 


	3. What's Another Name For A Drunk Apprentice? Jaesa Willsaam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really good at chapter summaries. I don't think I'm going to include anymore.
> 
> -Blue

Hair and piercings back in place, and a more casual outfit on (because really, who wore armor _all the time_ on their personal ship?), Exahlia was ready to have a word or two with her apprentice. The Sith steeled herself against whatever state the girl might be in. Yes, it was good and almost amusing at first to watch her experience all the pleasures denied by the Jedi, but now? Now it was getting tiresome, and her patience was running thin.

“Jaesa!” Exahlia barked, her footsteps echoing sharply. “What sort of state are you in?”

Jaesa let out a groan from where she was sprawled on the med bay bed, one arm over her face. “Ow...Master, no offense but do ya…do ya mind keeping it down?” The Pureblood pinched the bridge of her nose. Her apprentice's voice was thick, and her speech slurred.

“Yes. I do mind.” She stood over the girl, arms crossed and a look of disgust on her face. “When I first took you as my apprentice, I let you off the chain. I allowed you to dance and party and drink to your heart's content, to show you what the Jedi kept you from. But now?” Exahlia scowled. “You're a drunken mess, and I won't have it anymore. Were you anybody else, the Dromund Kaas police would already be finding your headless body in a ditch. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yeah… yes Master.” Some trickle of what she said must've gotten through the kid's drunken stupor, because her eyes were open now, and her face paler.

“Good. Detox yourself, and then spend the rest of our trip through hyperspace reading up on our latest mission.” Exahlia unclipped a datapad from her belt and tossed it onto the bed. “Return this to I or the Captain when you're finished.”

She turned on her heel, not waiting for a response as she marched out the door. Quinn was passing by, so she reached out to grab his arm. “I will need to speak to you later tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “To discuss your apprentice, or…?”

“Both. If I don't talk to someone soon about it, I may end up killing her myself anyway.”

“My lord, forgive me for saying but you seem to have a lot of rage lately. Is something else the matter?”

“I'm a Sith, Quinn. Rage is our middle name.”

“Strange, I thought yours was 'Bonecrusher.’”

She ignored his attempt at a joke, simply rolling her eyes. “Where are Vette and Pierce?”

“In the cockpit, I believe. At least, the Lieutenant should be.”

“Good.” Exahlia walked off, adding over her shoulder, “Wear that shirt more often, Quinn. It looks good on you.”

As she approached the cockpit, the Pureblood could hear Vette's voice inside.

“...and if I hadn't been there with a blaster, the k'lor'slugs definitely would've gotten her in those tombs!”

“Is that right?” Pierce sounded as if he couldn't decide whether to believe the Twi'lek or not.

“Funny. As I seem to recall, it was _I_ who had to save _you_ from becoming the meal of those beasts. More than one time, actually.” Exahlia leaned against the doorway, looking amused.

“Oh, you get to have all the fun anyway,” Vette grumbled. “What's wrong with me looking for a little credit every now and then?”

“Because if you look for it in the wrong places, you may end up with a hole in your body where a hole should not be.”

“Pffft.” Vette shook her head and leaned back in her seat, arms behind her head.

“In any case, I've come to see what our destination is. And, if you've heard anything back from your feelers, Vette.”

“We are currently enroute to Nar Shaddaa, my lord, but it will take approximately 13 days for us to arrive.”

“Including fuel stops?”

“Excluding. We're fairly full in terms of fuel, but may need to take a stop somewhere along the way. That will add another half-day to our travels.”

“Very well. You, Vette, and I can take turns keeping an eye on the ship. Now, what about information?”

“Nothing yet,” Vette replied, her eyes closed. “But I'm sure I'll get something back before we arrive.”

“Good. Keep me updated once you do. Oh, and Vette?”

“Yeah?”

“Lock up any and all alcohol you can find on the ship. Jaesa is no longer allowed to touch a single drop. If she gives you attitude, notify me and I'll handle her.”

“I'm already a step ahead of you there. Caught her leeching off my special stock of rum a week ago, so I put it somewhere else.” Vette winked. “It'll take a Force Hound to find all the alcohol when I'm done with it.”

“Very good. I will be meditating if you need anything.”

Moments later, Exahlia sat on her floor. Legs crossed, hands on her knees, and eyes closed, she reached out with her senses to touch the Force, to feel its Flow, and its Will. Bits and pieces of nonsensical images flashed in her mind, glimpses of the past, present, and future. She saw people laughing, and crying. Dead bodies on the battlefield. Cloaked figures standing over them - some with red lightsabers, and others with greens or blues. She heard howls of pain and the ragged hiss of a breathing apparatus. She saw first the Sith Academy in ruins, then the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Hot and cold alternated on her skin, the feeling of the desert being replaced by the biting sting of an ice planet. Everything that was, is, will be, and could be presented itself in her mind.

It was only disturbed when someone knocked rather sharply on her door. Slowly opening her eyes, Exahlia called out, “Who is it?” She looked at her clock, and her eyes shot up in surprise. Six hours she'd been meditating.

“It is I, my Glorious Master! I come bearing supper, and the company of Master Quinn!” At the mention of food, a pang of hunger seized her stomach. She stood up, grimacing. No wonder her body was sore. And her bum, it would take a few minutes for any sort of feeling to return.

“Go ahead and come in, then, 2V.”

She began to stretch as the door opened, enjoying the sensation of her joints popping one after the other.

“The others told me you were meditating, but when you didn't come out for supper I grew worried,” Quinn explained after 2V left. “I had the droid prepare something for you, then decided I would come up.”

“Your concern is touching, Malavai.” She reached up to stroke his cheek as she passed, locking her door. “While I eat, update me on anything new that's happened.”

“I'm afraid not much, my-- Exahlia. We are still on a steady course to Nar Shaddaa, where Vette believes even if we don't find our smuggler, we'll be able to gather more information on her. Jaesa has been caught up on what is happening, but last I saw her she was sulking in her room.”

“More than likely because I cut off her alcohol supply.” She tore viciously into the hunk of meat on her plate, a dark look crossing her face. “I have grown tired of her childish behavior, Malavai. Not even I was as wild and careless as she is! Her partying should have stopped a long time ago. Now I have not a strong apprentice, but an apathetic drunkard!” Exahlia finished off the meat with a growl, and began to attack her potatoes. “Were it not for her special ability I would have left her behind a long time ago. Let the Jedi have her back.”

“You don't mean that.”

“I do,” she retorted around the potatoes in her mouth. “Each of you is important for the skills you bring to the table, but _also_ because I can rely on you all to have my back! Her? I fear she will cut her limbs off in a fight -- or worse, _mine._ ”

“Are you done eating? I'll put the tray out of the way.” He took her empty food tray, setting it down on the desk. “All I will say is, a little discipline won't hurt her. Just be prepared for stormy moods.”

“Oh, don't worry. I've informed Vette to notify me if my apprentice attempts to get...violent.” Standing up, Exahlia walked to the edge of her bed and turned, flopping back onto the sheets with her arms spread. “What are the others doing?”

“After Vette and Pierce finished eating, I told them to sleep. It's been a long day for them, and it'll be a long road ahead, so they need all the rest they can get.”

“Then who's watching the ship?”

“2V. I instructed him to contact you or myself should anything go amiss, or when it's been eight hours, whichever comes first.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Two hours ago.”

A familiar look lit up her eyes as she watched him.

“And what are _you_ going to be doing, Malavai?”

“Whatever you would like for me to do,” he replied softly.

An hour later, they were both pressed against each other under the sheets; Exahlia had her head and her hand resting on Quinn's chest, while his fingers lazily rubbed a small circle on her shoulder. The motion was slow and rhythmic, lulling her to sleep. The Sith was by no means a stranger to sexual intimacy, but the flings often didn't last long -- usually because her partners would either get attached too strongly, or because she found them too… _dull._ By the time Quinn was assigned to her crew, the only reason she even engaged with that sort of activity was when she needed a release for her frustrations.

With Quinn, however, things were...different. What first captured her attention was how willing he was to speak his mind, and how adept he was at doing so without coming off as an upstart. He was the only one aside from Vette able to keep up with her pace, and the only one who kept her in line as much as she kept him on his toes. Now obviously Exahlia was under no illusions as to the nature of their relationship; he was her weakest link, closer than even Vette -- and in turn, the one who would be able to break her the most.

At that, she frowned, and opened her eyes. There was something she needed to discuss with Quinn.

“Malavai,” she whispered. He simply let out a soft grunt, so she raised her voice. “ _Malavai._ ”

“....yes?”

“How long have you been reporting on me to Darth Baras?”

Beneath her touch, she felt his entire body stiffen. A sense of unease rippled through him, confirming her suspicions. For a second, it seemed as though Quinn was going to lie, but he evidently decided against doing so. _Smart man,_ she thought.

“How long have you known?” The sound of resignation colored his voice.

“I didn't, not until you confirmed it now. But I've suspected for a while.” She picked up her head and planted both hands on either side of the Captain, such that her torso hovered above his. “So how long?”

Quinn was frozen in place, nowhere to look but up, into her eyes. Unexpectedly, there was no anger or rage in those orange orbs, but they weren't cold and emotionless either. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or worried. “Since he allowed me to join your crew, my lord. The Darth wanted me to keep an eye on you, and report our progress to him.”

“Is that _all_ you've told him, Malavai?”

“Yes, my lord. I… The Darth is aware we've grown fond of each other, but if he realises the full extent, he's never shared it with me.” The Captain swallowed loudly. “I’d wager, though, that Vette knows more than he does.”

Exahlia carefully lowered herself until their faces were close together. “I'm not mad at you,” she murmured softly. Her warm breath tickled his skin.

“You're not?” Quinn's voice was as low and soft as hers.

“No. I expected as such from my Master.” She dropped down, propping herself on her elbows and moving her hands under his head, their chests touching. “He's a paranoid old man who sees his enemies in every shadow.” The Sith blinked. “You aren't going to tell him I said that, are you?”

“Of course not. He knows only that which I deem most important for him. The grumblings of an apprentice that won't come to fruition are included.” A flood of relief coursed through his body. Quinn hadn't been sure what to expect, but this was definitely better than how he imagined things going. Feeling a little braver, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and in return she kissed him.

Exahlia appeared to be satisfied by their conversation. She rolled off of him to lay on her side, her bare back facing him. For a moment, the Captain was tempted to bear hug the woman, but decided against it. The Sith clearly wanted to sleep, not spoon.

Instead, he stayed on his side of the bed, thinking. He didn't know what to expect of their relationship, what to call it nor where to even begin seeing it go. All Quinn knew was that he enjoyed every bit of time they spent together.


	4. The Rylothian Monkey Lizard

The days of travel went by uneventfully, broken only by the incoming information Vette had managed to dredge up on their smuggler. For someone who supposedly had little reputation, plenty had been attributed to her - accounts of which contradicted each other.

Exahlia had made Jaesa sit and help her sort through everything they'd pulled, attempting to verify to the best of their abilities the truthfulness of the stories. One particular rumor, however, stuck out to her. “It says here our smuggler is responsible for at least one Sith death,” she told her apprentice.

Jaesa looked up from her own datapad, frowning. “Really? Who'd she kill, and more importantly _how?_ ” 

“From what I've been able to piece together, our smuggler has a medical streak in her, and had been hired as a stand-by medic for some sort of mercenary group. They in turn were hired to infiltrate one of our mining outposts to steal… Something. I haven't exactly found what. Regardless, one of the Sith foremen found them, and singled her out as the weakest link. Only, she wasn't.”

Exahlia tapped around on her datapad. “Where is it… Here. Vette managed to pull holovids from the incident by narrowing down the planet, and the approximate time. The local Imperial news outlets ran it to try and find her, but she escaped their clutches.”

Turning on the holo, the woman began to play the video. In it, a group of six people -- five in armor, one in a broad hat (“That's our smuggler there, in the hat.”) -- were shooting at the security droids. One of the armored individuals went down, and the group immediately shielded the smuggler and the injured person. The foreman emerged from somewhere out of the camera's range, lightsaber drawn. 

He started off blocking their blaster fire, but at one point he reached his arm out, pulling the smuggler towards him. She dangled in midair, obviously choking. The foreman was too focused on his victim to notice the downed figure from earlier draw their blaster, and fire. It hit him in the side and caused the Twi'lek to drop. The moment's distraction appeared to be enough for her; no sooner had her feet touched the ground that their smuggler launched herself at the Sith. 

They both went down, however, the smuggler was the one to get back up. She spat something down at the dead body, then wiped her mouth as she rejoined her group. 

Exahlia paused the video. “It's hard to make out, but the Sith was killed when she tore his throat out...with her teeth. Well, almost killed; he had just enough strength to detonate a bomb, which finished him off and gave her all those scars. But with the placement and severity of the bite, no doubt he would've died from her anyway.”

“That's...gruesome.”

“Indeed. Which makes her dangerous, too. And places her behavior at odds with what Baras initially gave us. It says she avoids fighting, yet clearly has no qualms about ripping throats out.”

“‘A true warrior never yearns for battle.’”

Exahlia raised a brow at her apprentice. “I don't ever recall teaching you that.” 

Jaesa shrugged. “It was something my old Master taught me. Not saying it's true or I agree with it, but… maybe it's something she follows? Y'know, don't fight unless you have to?”

She contemplated the girl's words for a brief moment. “I suppose. It wouldn't be a bad idea to maintain a higher level of caution for this one.” 

They returned to their profile-building, occasionally interrupted by the others for one reason or another. At one point, Jaesa commented, “Quinn sure seems to be hovering, doesn't he?” 

“I think it's a matter of not knowing what to do with himself presently,” Exahlia replied, not looking up. “Technically, we are doing his job.”

“Well then can we give him back his job? I swear if I have to read another dubious account from some skeevy, no-good backwater nerfherder I'm going to go _insane._ ” 

The Pureblood shot her a look. “It's either this, or meditating on the training texts I brought along.”

“I'll go fetch the Captain.”

Exahlia hid a smirk as her apprentice left. She was still oh so moody about being cut off from her partying, but the girl appeared to be getting better. More focused. 

With that focus, she hoped, Jaesa would become just as powerful as herself. 

“Jaesa said you needed me?” 

Exahlia looked up at Quinn, and gestured at the seat beside her. “Yes. Both of you were driving me up the wall, so I sent her to go over her lessons, and figured you could pick up where she left off.”

“That sounds very appealing, my lord.” He picked up the datapad Jaesa had been using, scrolling through her notes.

“I've also been pondering the most strategic way to ensnare our little smuggler, and I'd like your thoughts on what I have so far.”

“Of course, my lord. What were you thinking?”

Exahlia pulled out a blank piece of paper and a stylus. She drew three circles on it, then wrote a little note next to each one. “Vette has managed to confirm that the smuggler is currently docked on Nar Shaddaa. Specifically, Shuttle Hangar 212-B. I've sent ahead and reserved all of Bay 212-A, with the cover of us being a small crew of wine merchants.” The Sith made a small gesture with her hand. “I am glad you recommended buying a few crates at our last stop.

“Once we land, Vette will be in charge of slicing the cameras. She will be our eyes in case the smuggler gives us the slip, or to warn us of trouble. I'm also hoping she'll be able to stay relatively close to our ship as we're doing so, because I will need someone in case a quick getaway is in order.” She made an X where 212-A was labeled. 

“Next, I was hoping you and Jaesa could find the Twi'lek in whichever cantina Vette traces her to. Pierce will be with me as we search through her ship.”

The Captain's brow furrowed. “Why Jaesa and I?” 

“Because you are skilled at blending in and infiltrating, and I hope Jaesa learns to pick up something from you. Additionally, her connection with the Force is strong, and she should act as an early warning system for you in case something goes awry. Meanwhile, Pierce will be with me because to put him with Jaesa will spell certain disaster, and he doesn't like you.”

Quinn frowned. “Why not put him with me? You think he won't listen?” 

“I _know_ he won't listen to you, Quinn, and I do not feel like having our mission compromised because he picks then to chafe under authority.”

“Very well, my lord.” He set the datapad down. “All in all, it sounds like a good plan. I just hope it works.”

“Hope is for losers. My plan _will_ work.” She stood up, straightening her clothes. “With that settled, I will go brief the others on our plan, and then depending on how long before we dock, I will ensure everything is ready.”

“Yes, my lord. What would you like me to do?”

“Stay, and finish going through this information.” She paused. “And try not to miss me too much, Captain.”

He flashed her a wry grin. “A very hard task indeed, my lord.”

Exahlia returned it with a brief smirk of her own, then left. The sooner things could start, the less likely for her plans to blow up.

One day later, they were ready to put the plan into action. 

The Pureblood was able to simultaneously pay off and intimidate the dock workers to ensure their cover was not blown. Just as she'd hoped, Vette was able to slice into the feeds and the spaceport information to track down their target; apparently, Vrei'vrimera had decided to use her alternative name, Maug Endun. 

It also seemed that Maug was feeling a little thirsty. Vette had managed to track her down to The Salty Bantha cantina, which meant they needed to hurry if they wanted to get in and out without issue. 

She and Pierce thus found themselves crouching behind some crates in Shuttle Hangar 212-B. Exahlia had taken the time to obscure as much of her face and skin as possible; Purebloods were rare outside of the Empire, and the last thing she needed was a line to be traced directly back to her Master. 

“Alright, everyone, give me an update.”

“Jaesa and I are currently seated in the cantina, a clear view on our target,” reported Quinn.

“And I've still got a lovely view on everything happening,” Vette chirped. 

“Good. Let me know when she's on the move and Vette, I want you to notify me the second anything odd happens on those cameras. Do you still have the loop going on the hangars?”

“Never seen a smoother stitch than this one, my lord. Maybe I should become a holodrama editor.”

“Goals for another day, Vette. The Lieutenant and I are getting ready to move in on the ship. I expect radio silence unless it's dire.”

Exahlia dropped her arm, peering over at the ship. “Sense anyone, my lord?” 

The Sith closed her eyes, integrating herself within the Force. She then reached out towards the ship, probing it with her mind. “Nothing that's organic, Pierce. Can't say for sure if there's any droids.” 

Pierce patted his blaster. “Nevermind that, my lord. If I see any, I'll just shoot ‘em before they can raise an alarm.” 

The corner of her mouth pulled upwards. “I do like the sound of that, Lieutenant. Ready to advance?”

“Ready is my middle name, my lord.”

“Then let's go.” Exahlia stood up, making a beeline for the boarding ramp. Rather obviously, the door was closed. 

“The door's closed.” 

The Sith shot Pierce a look. “Really? I didn't notice. My eyesight must be going bad.” Shaking her head, she drew one of her lightsabers and turned it on. The green blade came to life, its familiar hum soothing. “Stand back, I'm going to cut the door.”

As the lieutenant obliged, she assumed a ready stance before plunging her blade into the metal. Sparks flew as molten durasteel oozed around her marks. Working carefully, she cut out a hole for them to pass through. The Sith tucked her saber away and then, calling on the Force, blasted the piece inwards. It flew away, clattering across the cargo hold floor with rather loud clangs. 

“Oops.” She stepped in, making sure to avoid the still-hot edges of the makeshift entryway, then looked around. “Pierce, start your search here. I will locate the bedroom and search for the holocron there. Comm me if you find anything.”

“Yes, my lord.” 

It wasn't until Exahlia started walking down the hall on the upper level of the ship that she encountered her first droid. 

Really, she should have been able to hear the metallic footsteps. _'Should have’_ being the key term here, since obviously, she _didn't._

It had come out of what the woman assumed to be the 'fresher, carrying a bucket and a mop. Both of them froze; Exahlia was debating whether or not she'd have to kill it when it spoke. 

“Ah! Captain didn't say she'd have guests over! Otherwise I would have cleaned the lounge area first.”

“Who are you?”

“I am C2-N8, though the Captain prefers to call me 'Nate.’ I am a model of gentlemanly manners and polite efficiency. As a steward Droid, I will do everything in my _considerable_ programming power to ensure that my master's starship always maintains the proper air of respectability. This includes high-powered dusting capabilities, monitoring the crew's caloric intake and a selection of aromas from across the galaxy to satisfy even the pickiest of noses!” The droid gave a quick little bow of its head. 

“....right. Well, if you don't mind, I'm just here to pick something up from your Master and--” 

“Oh, don't worry! I have already contacted the Captain to let her know she has a visitor. Say, what was your name again?”

Exahlia pinched the bridge of her nose. She should've just killed the droid the moment she saw it. Shaking her head, the Sith once again drew her green lightsaber and flicked it on. 

“Oh, a Jedi! My master will be most pleased to have--”

Before the droid could say another word, she reached out with her free hand and, using the Force, pulled it towards her. Nate sped through the air until its chest was punctured by her blade. Only when its dying wail fell silent did she deactivate and put away her saber. 

Stepping over the droid body, she moved forward to search for the bedroom. At the same time, she commed her companion. “Pierce, we need to hurry. A droid discovered me on the ship and apparently sent a message out. The smuggler could be coming back soon. Report your status.” 

_Finally._ Her search for the bedroom over, Exahlia stepped into the room and immediately looked around. She wondered out loud, “If I had a holocron, where would I put it?” The Pureblood briefly tried to reach out and sense the holocron, but came up empty. “Perhaps it's cloaked,” she muttered. 

The Sith moved towards the chest of drawers, pausing to look at the photos on display. In total, there were four pictures. One was of a younger, more youthful Vrei'vrimera laughing with a bearded man. She did not have any scars in that one, nor in the next where she and the man stood, hands resting on her swollen belly. Something happened, though, between the second and the third. The smuggler had gained her scars and lost her light, despite the force smile on her face. The child in her arms - his patchy skin attesting to his mixed heritage - looked to be at least a year and a half old, completely oblivious to his mother's pain. 

As for the last photo, Vrei'vrimera was holding one hand of her son; Exahlia guessed he was at least a year older than in the previous. The child's other hand was held by another female Twi'lek, her skin a deep violet color. The new woman and the smuggler looked at each other with complete adoration while the child laughed at the photographer.

The Sith's eyes lingered on the last photo. They looked so happy together. A part of her was disgusted by the blatantly lovey-dovey displays, discounting them as utter weakness. And yet, another part whispered something to her, something about possibilities for her own future…

_Enough._ She was getting distracted, and the more time she wasted the more likely things would get hairy. Exahlia continued her search but then paused, her brows furrowed. The realisation hit that Pierce had never responded to her comm. “Pierce, do you copy?” Silence. “Lieutenant Pierce, whatever you're doing you best respond.” Nothing. 

Scowling, the Sith turned away and hurried out, making a beeline for the cargo hold. “Lieutenant, I swear by the Emperor--” 

“My lord?” Pierce stuck his head up from behind a stack of crates tied down. “What's wrong?”

“What's _wrong_ is that you weren't answering your comms. I called for you three times!”

“I beg forgiveness, my lord. I didn't hear a thing from mine.” 

Her frown deepened. “Was it turned off?” 

“No? It shouldn't have been, I didn't-- hold on.”

“What?” 

Pierce's eyes narrowed in confusion. “It's looking like our comms are jammed.” 

“Jammed? How?” 

“Maybe the smuggler has something rigged up to block communications?” 

“That wouldn't make sense, unless--” Exahlia trailer off, eyes widening in realisation. “There was a droid, I killed it but not before it was able to sent off an alert to our quarry. She must have some way to remotely jam anything coming in or out of her ship.” 

“Which means--”

“Which means you idiots couldn't be alerted by your two pitiful stalkers.”


	5. Not a Dud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be posting a few chapters tonight, considering in a month I will be cut off from all technology for a while *shrug.* Enjoy!
> 
> -Blue

Neither one had time to react to the appearance of a new person before shots were fired off. Two hit Pierce right in the chest, while Exahlia managed to deflect the rest with one of her lightsabers. 

“Did you just kill the Lieutenant?” she exclaimed. 

“Nah, I had my guns set on stun. I usually don't try to kill if I can help it.” 

“Unless it involves tearing the throat out of a Sith.”

“Even then, that Sith had it coming. Speaking of which--” Vrei'vrimera had both of her guns leveled at the Pureblood. “Your lightsaber says Jedi, but your entire being says Sith. I can't fathom why the Jedi would send someone after me for killing their enemy, and I don't see why the Sith would hunt me down for killing an underling. Hell, y'all do it all the time to each other.” 

Exahlia merely stood in a ready stance, choosing not to speak. 

“I'm just a smalltime smuggler, except for the occasional mission as a medic I keep my head down. I'm not that valuable, so why-- Ahhh, I see.” The Twi'lek inhaled slowly, her lekku twitching. “You're here for this, aren't you?” Keeping one blaster trained on the Sith, Vri holstered the other and pulled out a small, rectangular object. Intricate carvings adorned its metal surface, with bloodred inlay. The Twi'lek flashed her a dark look, her sharpened teeth glinting in the light. She then held the nose of her blaster flush with the surface, causing Exahlia to tense up. 

“I'm figuring there's a reason you didn't just wait for me to come back, and then kill me. Might be because you're _technically_ not supposed to be here, right? And while I don't know how to destroy a holocron, I'm gonna take a gander that shooting one point blank is not a good idea in close quarters. So how about you put your lightsaber away, since I really don't think you're a Jedi, and we both walk out of the ship -- slowly. Once we're outside we can negotiate a price, how about that?”

The Pureblood bared her teeth. It would be so, _so_ easy to simply kill this insolent worm and make off with the holocron, but then they risked word spreading. As for the holocron itself, she still didn't know whether or not it was a fake. Exahlia growled. “Fine,” she spat. “I agree to your terms.” 

The Twi'lek smiled. “Good. Put that glowstick of yours down, and then we'll both start walking out. You'll stay the same distance away from me.” 

A look of displeasure on her face, the woman did as she was told. Only when the two were completely away from the ship did her comm crackle to life. 

“--is on her way to her ship, we lost sight of her and we haven't been able to get ahold of Pierce. Master, _please_ pick _up._ ” Jaesa's panicked voice crackled through the static. 

Slowly, Exahlia raised her wrist. “Yes, my apprentice, I'm aware.” 

“Finally! Master, you don't know how many times we tried to get through to you, not even Vette could and Quinn--” Jaesa broke off as she and Quinn came running through the hangar doors, coming to a halt several yards away when they saw what was going on. 

Exahlia crossed her arms. “I'm here for the holocron, yes. And I know you plan to give it to the Cartel to pay off whatever debts you have left. But I'm not paying a single credit until I know that thing is not a fake.” 

“Then I guess you just won't get it, huh?” The Twi'lek smirked. 

“Oh I could, it would just have to be done the way I least prefer.” She began walking toward the smuggler. This in turn prompted the smuggler to scurry backwards. 

“Whoa whoa hey _stop!_ Do you _want_ me to shoot this thing?” 

“Honestly, I feel like a great many problems will be solved and prevented if you do.” 

Exahlia kept walking towards her, closing the gap between them, and the other two. The Twi'lek struggled to keep up the pace, but tripped over her feet. She fell backwards, causing the objects in her hands to go flying. 

“Jaesa, the holocron!” The Pureblood leapt forwards, pulling both lightsabers simultaneously and landing over the downed Twi'lek. Her blades formed an X over her throat. “Now, scum, give me one good reason why I shouldn't just kill you?”

“Okay, okay! Look! You said you wanted to know if the holocron was fake, right? Well look at your apprentice! Just look!” Exahlia narrowed her eyes at the other woman, but looked up nonetheless.

“...Jaesa?” Her apprentice did not respond. Instead, the girl was entranced by the holocron in her hands, which was now glowing a sinister violet color. Bluish-black tentacles slowly crept up her arms, and her eyes were a brilliant yellow. “Jaesa!”

“Master…” Finally, her apprentice looked at her, a dreamy expression on her face. “I hear her whispering, Master… Promising secrets to weed out the fakers...the traitors… She's going to help me…”

“Help you? Who is?” Exahlia looked back down at the smuggler. “I know you have a family, Vri. I saw their pictures. So if you have any hopes of getting to see them again in this life, you better start talking.”

“I don't know anything! I lifted it off a pirate, and then when I tried to hand it to a Jedi, the holocron killed him! It didn't seem to affect me so I figured I'd just sell it to the Hutts, get rid of it while making enough to pay off what I owed!” 

Just then, the metallic tang of ozone settled on Exahlia’s tongue, causing her to look up again. The air around Jaesa crackled with visible energy, and the Pureblood could feel her hairs stand up. 

“Look, please don’t kill me! I just wanted to pay off my debt!” 

The Pureblood let out a snarl. She sheathed her lightsabers and stepped back -- then used the Force to send the Twi’lek rolling to the side. 

“Jaesa, listen to me! You’re in grave danger, if you don't put that down now you may get hurt!” Exahlia walked slowly towards her apprentice, praying that Quinn would have the sense to stay back. She didn't need him hurt, too.

Her apprentice's head rolled over to look at her, a serene look on her face. “She's going to help me, Master… help me purge the Empire of the non-believers…” All of the sudden, the girl's features twisted into a hideous visage, teeth bared. For a second, the Pureblood swore she saw an old hag's face over Jaesa's. “Starting with _you!_ ” A thick bolt of lightning flung from her tips and darted towards Exahlia. She barely had enough time to catch it with her hands, her muscles trembling from the effort. 

“Jaesa, listen to me! Whoever is speaking to you, they are tainting your mind! I have done nothing but encourage your purifications. My faith in the Empire is steadfast!” 

“Lies! Deception!” 

The lightning finally stopped, the remnants of it dancing off of her red skin like demented fawns in a meadow. Her whole body was abuzz with the energy she absorbed. Something about it was off, like the energy was tainted, and she knew she'd have to get it out of her system soon. Planting her feet firmly on the ground, Exahlia called upon the Force and extended her arms towards Jaesa to drive all of that energy out into her own form of lightning. 

It hit her apprentice square in the chest, but instead of knocking her down, Jaesa merely staggered back. “Oh, I see how it is,” she scoffed. Holding the holocron close with one hand, she pointed the other right at Quinn.

“Jaesa, no, don't you dare, _don't YOU--!_ ” 

A fat bolt slammed into his chest, sending the Captain flying back a good few yards. Exahlia let out a rage-fueled scream. “ _How dare you!_ ” 

In response, Jaesa merely leapt over her head and ran towards the ship. As she ran, the girl reached a hand out towards the Twi'lek, pulling her close. They both ran up the boarding ramp, and into the ship, where the Pureblood realised Pierce was still at. 

She was torn. On the one hand, Exahlia oh-so-desperately wished to chase after Jaesa and free her apprentice from whatever was controlling her; but on the other hand, Quinn was in bad shape, and abandoning him now would not bode well later on. 

_Wait._ There were those trackers Quinn insisted on bringing, in his bag. A plan began to form in her mind, but she would have to act quick. Pulling the Captain's bag towards her, and hoping he'd forgive her for breaking the strap (honestly,she could always buy him a new one), she pulled one out and quickly activated it. Then, she allowed the dark side to pool into her. 

She felt it pounce like a predator on its prey, clawing inside of her. It fed on her emotions -- most of all her rage -- and burned her from the inside out. The sensation was _exhilarating,_ and now she needed it to guide her. The engines were already warming up. 

The Pureblood took a few running steps towards the ship before throwing the device with all of her might. She allowed the Force to guide the small object until it embedded itself into the hull, and quickly enough, too. No sooner had it landed that the ship began pulling away. 

She waited no more than a heartbeat before racing towards the Captain, kneeling down beside him. His pulse was sluggish, but still going; breathing, more shallow than it should have been. “Quinn, wake up,” she commanded. No response. Exahlia carefully pulled him into her arms, cradling his head. “ _Malavai._ ” Still nothing. 

“Hey, uh, please tell me you have the holocron and just let the smuggler be on her way.” Vette's voice crackled through the comms unit. 

“No, to both. Pierce and Jaesa are on board as well.”

“Oh, well… that's, uh, not that bad, right? Where's the Captain?”

“Dying. You need to get us out of here immediately.”

“...right. I'll be there in a skip.” 

“Copy.” For once, Exahlia was thankful that the Twi'lek refrained from any snarky comments. Otherwise, the Sith couldn't claim responsibility for the ensuing chaos. 

She looked back down at the Captain. “Malavai,” the Pureblood whispered. “If you can hear me, know this: should you choose to die on me, I will personally kill you and your family.”

To an extent, she meant it.


	6. MEEEDIIIIC!

//Location: The Deadly Nexu

“Wow. Okay. I need to sit down and process this.” Vette flopped down on the bed next to Quinn. Exahlia had refused to share what happened once her companion arrived, instead barking out orders to get her Captain stabilized. Only when she was certain he wouldn't die right away did she explain what exactly went down. 

“So basically what you're saying is… everything that could've gone wrong, _did._ ”

“Yes.” The Sith's muscles were tense, her jaw clenched. “Exactly what my Master said _not_ to do.” 

“But hey, at least you put that tracker on, right? Have you checked it?” 

“Yes. I'm sure you're familiar with the fact that hyperspace prevents tracking. However, Quinn's trackers were programmed to immediately send off pings as soon as their carriers drop back into real space. Based on the locations of the pings, I've managed to plot a trajectory. They're heading to Yavin 4.” 

“I wonder why? Oh well. At least it means we still have a chance to fix things. What say we head to the nearest Imperial Outpost, drop our Captain here off to be tended to, and then we follow--”

“No.”

“Wh-- no? Why no?”

“We cannot risk returning to Imperial space, and Quinn needs to be healed as soon as possible.” They didn't even know what was wrong with him. “Until he's on the road to recovery, we aren't going after the smuggler.”

“But Jaesa! Pierce! Are you just going to leave them?” 

“They can handle themselves. And if not, then they'd be dead before we arrived.”

“You can't just abandon them!” Vette leapt to her feet. “We both know if Quinn were on that ship you'd be moving entire star systems just to get to him.”

“We aren't--”

“What about me?”

Exahlia eyed the Twi'lek, her face rigid and emotionless. “What about you?”

“If you had to choose between going after _me_ or saving Quinn, who would you choose?”

The Pureblood curled her lip, her voice dangerously low. “Don't ask me that, Vette.” 

“Why? Is it because you'd abandon me too? Is that it? I'm not Quinn, so my life doesn't--”

Her words were choked off when Exahlia, quick as a viper, reached out and grabbed her throat. Pulling the Twi'lek close, her eyes ablaze, she hissed, “I'm not abandoning _anyone,_ Vette. We will get Pierce and Jaesa back, if they're still alive. If not... Then I'll kill whoever I need to. I would do the same for you, for Quinn, for my whole crew.” 

Vette grasped at her wrist, visibly scared. She'd grown cozy, comfortable, at ease in her presence - rightfully so, as the Sith had done whatever she could to ensure her Twi'lek would not be harmed while enjoying life as a free person. 

And yet. 

And. _Yet._

The Twi'lek dared to doubt Exahlia's motives, _dared_ to doubt her capabilities, to doubt the _lengths_ she'd go to in order to keep her crew together. 

How. Dare. She. 

“Are we clear?”

The Pureblood took her whimpers as a yes, releasing her grip on the other's throat. Vette dropped to the ground, rubbing her neck and letting out a small gasp. “Good. Now set a course for Tython; there's someone we need to meet.”

//Location: Jedi Training Grounds, Tython

“Remember, the Jedi way is not to seek harm, but rather to defend from it. As you progress, you will learn more specialized styles of fighting, but always remember: attack to kill _only_ when necessary.” Vyr'ago Billaba had her hands clasped behind her back, pacing back and forth nonchalantly. Before her was a group of young Padawan Learners, eagerly hanging onto every word. She hoped it was because they found her lecture interesting, and _not_ because of her title. 

“Any questions? No? Alright. You all have your sparring buddies, I want you to line up and go through the basic motions. Keep them nice and slow to warm up.” 

“Yes, Master Billaba,” they chorused. She smiled warmly at the children as they practiced under her watchful eye. Then, faintly, she heard the roar of a ship engine above. 

Vyr'ago turned, frowning. The ship didn't sound like the normal-- 

At the touch of the dark side fast approaching, she pulled her saber staff out, the dual ice-blue blades hissing to life. “Padawans, get behind me and stay close together!”

No sooner had the words left her mouth that the dark sider she'd sensed land in front of the Jedi, the ground shaking at their impact. 

Well, _her_ impact. The armored being appeared to be a female Pureblood, black hair pulled back and a coiled bun on either side of her head. It gave her almost a juvenile appearance, were it not for her sharp, predatorial features and body language. 

“Begone, Sith!” A childish voice broke the moment, and one of her young learners - a Cathar girl, Illana - leapt at the intruder. She snarled as her body flew through the air, training saber out. The Sith in response ignited both of her lightsabers (green and lilac? Who was this Sith?), fully prepared for the clash-- a smirk was on her face, this child didn't know who she was dealing with--

Yet the impact never came. Instead, Illana was suspended mid-air, saber held high above her head. Then, like a yo-yo, Vyr'ago pulled the girl and dropped her rather unceremoniously on the ground by her feet. “Illana, I am very disappointed in your behavior; it goes against what I _just_ told you.” The girl's ears were pinned back in embarrassment and humiliation. 

“Class, I want you all to head back to the temple together. Padawan Thysel, you're in charge. Alert the Council to our uninvited guest.”

“Why don't you just tell them yourself, Barsen'thor?” The Sith's voice was silky smooth, pointing to a noble upbringing. _If Sith could ever be considered noble,_ Vee thought. And yet, at the same time, she knew that voice from somewhere…

Sheathing her blades, the Pureblood gave a deep bow. “I am Lord Exahlia, daughter of Darth Serpentus and sister of the late Endytine.”

The name felt like a blow to Vyr'ago. Endytine Serpentus, former Sith Acolyte who'd fled to the Jedi. She'd taken the girl under her wing as her own Padawan, helping Endytine unlearn the ways of the dark side and leading her through the trials to become a Knight. The former Sith had made her Master proud when she returned with not one, but two crystals from Ilum. And then, a month after being knighted, Endytine was dead. Killed in combat. 

And now her supposed sister had returned with her lightsabers. 

None of the children had left yet. “Padawans, do what I said. The Sith and I will wait for an escort to the Temple.” As they finally began their trek, Vyr'ago returned her attention to Exahlia. “I don't suppose you're here to follow your sister's steps towards redemption, are you?” 

Exahlia let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Hardly. Your boring ways and fuddy-duddy rules are of no temptation to me. No, instead I come to seek you, Barsen'thor. I am in need of your services.”

“For what?” The Jedi folded her arms, choosing to let the earlier comment slide. “I'm no mercenary, you can't just come and rent me out.”

“I realise that. But time is of the essence. One of my men has fallen ill, and I'm not sure what is wrong - or how long he has. As such I want you to look at him, and see what we can do.”

“Me? I'm no healer.”

“Really? From what I heard, you cured _your_ Master of a Force plague, as well as several other Jedi.”

She shook her head. “That was different, the plague was purely Force-based and only needed a shielding technique. Perhaps our own healers can help--”

“They can't.” The Sith was clearly becoming agitated. Despite her attempts to maintain a cool demeanor, it rolled off of her in waves.

“Why not?”

“You're the only Jedi I trust, Barsen'thor.” 

Vyr'ago was taken aback by the statement, unsure of how to respond. She struggled with her words until the strong hum of an incoming shuttle distracted them both. “Oh good,” the Jedi said, relieved. “Our ride is here.”

“Really? I think I must be going deaf and blind, I didn't know they were approaching at all until you said something.” The Jedi shot the other woman a look that was returned with a raised eyebrow. 

The shuttle finally landed, and out jumped three Jedi Knights. One of them, a human she recognized as Ybir Talkatha, stepped forward and gave a quick bow. “Barsen'thor, we've come to escort the Sith to the Temple.” 

Vyr'ago returned his bow. “Did all of the learners make it safely, then?” 

“Yes, for the most part. Near the last leg of their journey, a couple of Flesh Raiders ambushed them; but they defended themselves wonderfully, and there were only one or two who sported any injuries of note.” 

She nodded, letting out a little sigh of relief. _Well, there goes two worries._

“Hi, hello, yes, are those _handcuffs_ I see? And a _shock collar?_ ” The Sith put her hands on her hips. “You Jedi are supposed to be the trusting and naive idiots. Oh, the hypocrisy.”

“A long line of experience has taught us not to trust your kind, Sith.” Ybir returned her glare with a cool, steely gaze of his own. “Especially with your arrival being entirely unexpected and unwanted.” 

“If I wanted to attack your Order, I would have dropped myself off at the Temple itself, not out here in the grasslands.” Exahlia pointed at Vyr'ago. “I'm here for her, not your overinflated Council.” 

“I'm afraid if you want my help for anything, you'll have to discuss it with the Council,” the Master informed her. 

“Amazing, they even have their precious Barsen'thor on a leash.” The Pureblood let out a sigh. “But, as it seems I will otherwise get nowhere, I shall forsake my dignity just this once.” She pulled her lightsabers off and gave them to Vyr'ago. “As I said. You're the only Jedi I dare trust.” Exahlia then held out her wrists and shot the Knights a look. “Well? Get on with it, then.”

The trio approached her as if she were a wild animal, slowly and carefully clasping on the restraints. When they were finished, the Pureblood gave them a distasteful look, but merely asked, “Now that that's finished, can we be going?” 

“One more thing.” Ybir pulled out a trigger and pressed the button. The Sith let out a startled yelp as her body spasmed from the sudden jolts of electricity coursing through her veins. As soon as the Knight let go, she fell forwards. The other two caught her, with the one injecting some sort of liquid into her neck. Exahlia continued to slump forward, her body now completely limp. 

“Was that really necessary?” Vyr'ago asked. 

“The Council seems to think so. We don't know her intent. The electricity was to fry any bugs on her, and the tranq should keep her knocked out until we get to the Council Chambers.” 

The Barsen'thor grimaced. She understood the line of thought, but that didn't mean she had to agree with it. “She mentioned time was of the essence, so I suppose we better get on with it.”


	7. Give Me A Break

//Location: Lucky Stars, Vrei'vrimera's light freighter. 

Oh boy. Vri was in some deep doodoo now. 

Her plan had been simple enough, at least from her perspective. Take the freaky box thing from the convulsing Jedi, sell it to the Hutts for enough money to clear her ledger _and_ get herself and her family set up, then hightail it to some backwater world, like Dantooine or even Wayland. 

As for why the holocron made the Jedi go nuts and not her, well, the Twi'lek didn't know. She did know she was thankful for it, for whatever protected her brain and blood from leaking out of her orifices. The smuggler shuddered at the memory. Yeah. That wasn't pleasant. 

Vri's thoughts then turned towards her family. Little Lao'chee, and Alana. Sweet Alana. The Twi'lek's mouth curled up into a little smile. After the death of her _sei anan,_ she had to leave the mercenaries. To take care of her newborn yes, but also to mourn the loss of her other half. The loss of her husband. 

She took her earnings and went undercover. Changed her name to Maug'chee, finally being able to honor her husband. At that, Vri's lekku twitched. Unfortunately, the mercs didn't want married couples to change their names -- made it easier for people to avoid being targeted together, apparently? Eh, whatever. Those days were gone. 

Then along came Alana Vera. She'd been a Republic soldier, part of the disaster relief squad or whatever they were called. She'd told Vri the name countless times, but the woman never seemed able to remember. In any case, Vri had just so happened to rent her services out as an extra medic, and she'd been assigned to Alana's group. The two Twi'leks had great work chemistry and, as it turned out later on in the evenings, great romantic chemistry too. Next thing either of them knew, the relationship got serious enough to move in together, Lao was already calling Alana “Momma,” and Alana was able to retire from the military to take care of him while Vri did her transportation gigs. This job was supposed to be her last, supposed to provide enough to allow them to settle together and open their own clinic. It was supposed to mark the true beginning of Vri's new life, new family. 

Now, it seemed like her new days were gonna be gone before they even started. 

“How soon until Yavin 4?” A voice growled over her shoulder, the softness of youth overlayed with the growl of antiquity. 

The Twi'lek looked up at the girl who stood beside her, the holocron tucked away in the bag on her belt. Jaesa was her name, and supposedly Sorghum Sim was whispering in her brain. She was unstable with delusions of grandeur, and that made her all the more dangerous. 

“Well, we left Nar Shaddaa about… 144 standard hours ago? So we've got about 240 hours left, or approximately ten days til we get to Yavin. Assuming, of course, we don't stop - but we will need to.” 

“We don't need to stop.” For a second, Vri felt a slight pressure in her brain, like the cabin had just decompressed, but it went away as quickly as it arrived. 

Furrowing her tattooed eyebrows together, the Twi'lek's lekku curled up. “Uh, yeah we do. My fuel isn't going to last long enough, and we can't stay in hyperspace the entire time anyway.” She looked up, deep violet eyes meeting radioactive yellow ones. “We _will_ need to stop.”

The Sith curled her lip in disgust. “Fine. But it will need to be quick. We cannot afford any delays.” She turned on her heel, storming out of the cockpit. Suddenly, Jaesa paused at the door and added, “Feed the sacrifice. He must be kept healthy. I will be in my quarters; do not disturb me unless we have landed or are under attack.” Without waiting for an answer, she resumed her walk.

Vri waited until the girl was out of eyesight before sticking her tongue out, her lekku spelling out several rather nasty insults about the Sith. Her _quarters? Tcha! I think she means_ my _bedroom that_ she _stole from me, so that now_ I _have to sleep on the couch._ The Twi’lek let out a huff, arms crossed. In less than a day, the smuggler had become a slave in her own ship! Talk about a cruel world. 

Her eyes looked up at the ceiling. She’d survived battles, crashes, Sith, explosions, wild animals -- you name it, she’d been through it. Yes, she’d been through it, and come out alive. Her mama used to always tell her, before Papa died, that luck ran through her veins. Vri just hoped her luck wouldn’t run out this time. 

Letting out a sigh, the woman stood up and stretched. Well, if she wanted to survive long enough to get rid of that goddamn _nuisance,_ she’d have to stay under the radar and do what that young biddy asked. 

The Twi’lek made a beeline for the kitchen, pulling out whatever seemed edible and wasn’t growing its own colony. She hated to break it to the _yeahu’era,_ but soon as they stopped, Vri would need to restock the food, too. Having plus-two when you were only expecting yourself and a leisurely trip home really put a drain on the resources. Plus, the so-called sacrifice ate a _lot,_ even more than _she_ did -- and that was really saying something. 

Once she slopped enough food on a plate, the woman grabbed some cutlery and a napkin or two. Vri squared her shoulders. Time to feed the big guy. 

“Hey Baldy. Wakey wakey. I gotcha some food.” She nudged Lieutenant Pierce with her shoe, causing him to jerk awake. The poor guy looked rough; no doubt his muscles were sore from his limbs being bound, and honestly Vri almost felt sympathy for him. In fact, there's no doubt she would have felt sympathy for him. 

If, y'know, it weren't for the fact he was a xenophobic piece of Imp trash. 

“Promise not to spit on me anymore, and I'll feed you the food instead of making you eat it like an akk dog,” she continued, kneeling down with the plate in hand. “How does that sound?” 

For a second, Pierce looked as though he was going to do _exactly_ what she asked him _not_ to, but thought better of it. In response, the Twi'lek gave him a sickly-sweet smile. “That's what I thought.”

As she began to cut his meat, the man grunted, “Do you know where we're heading?” 

Vri raised her tattooed eyebrows at him. This was the first time since he woke up that the man had spoken to her without threats or xenophobic slurs. “Yavin 4, dunno why though.” She stabbed a piece of food with her fork and held it up to his mouth. 

Pierce pulled it off with his teeth and chewed it, swallowing quickly. “What about me? Why am I still bound? I'm on her team, _you_ should be the one tied up.”

This time, Vri didn't smile. “You're her sacrifice.”

“I-- _what‽_ I'm her _sacrifice?_ ” He scowled deeply at her. “The bloody hell does _that_ mean?” 

“How should _I_ know? I'm just the pilot.” 

The next few minutes were spent in silence as she continued to feed him. Vri did not like this man one bit. He was exactly the type of smug, arrogant, uppity Imp that she'd wanted to help fight -- the same kind who took her beloved husband. In any other scenario, she would've left this scum to die without a single trace of guilt. 

But in their current situation, the woman had a sinking feeling that she'd need him to escape this. Because, in her mind, there was no doubt she'd be killed at the end of this if they didn't get away soon. Whether she liked it or not, Vri would have to work with this no-good sonuva nerfherder.

“I don't know what she wants,” Vri finally said, breaking the silence. “What I do know, however, is that we are both gonna die once she gets what she wants. I mean, you're already slated for execution as her sacrifice, but me? I got a family I need to get home to, a fiancee and a son. I don't want to be stuck chauffeuring this _yeahu’era_ around with the threat of death in the air all the time.”

“You suggesting we work together?”

The Twi'lek leaned in close, her voice dropping down to a whisper. “I'm saying when we get to Yavin, I can tranq her and we can ditch her _theta abara_ on the planet. Then I can drop you off on Nar with a few credits, and I can head home. Sound like a plan?”

Pierce grunted. “Keep feeding me, and I'll let you know when I'm done.”

_”Ugh.”_ Despite wrinkling her nose, Vri did as he asked, though this time she continued to talk. “Y'know, I also think I can resist her somehow. Her Force abilities.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. There's been a couple times now where she'll say something real weird, and then I feel a slight pressure in my head, but nothin’ happens and she just gets more pissy than before. And I highly doubt she can read my mind, otherwise I would've been skewered for my thoughts a dozen times over.”

The lieutenant stopped chewing, eyeing her with scrutiny. “And you've just now figured this out?” 

“In my defense, I try to avoid Force Users if I can.”

“Fair enough. Now about the plan… I say we give it a go. But how do I know you won't just leave me there with her?”

“Oh, trust me, I'd love to. But I need you to help me navigate through Imperial space without any hassles. As a smuggler it's nothing new, but I want to get home as fast as I can.”

He simply grunted again, then nodded his head. “That's acceptable, then. We'll just need to plan the specifics as much as we can before we arrive.” 

The Twi'lek beamed at him. “I knew you'd come around to it. You're a lot smarter than you look, which is saying a lot.”

Pierce scowled again. “Watch your tone, alien. Don't forget the only reason we're working together is because we've got a common enemy now.”

“And _you_ watch _your_ tone. Don't forget who knocked your lumbering butt out in the first place.”


	8. In Which The Mostly Dubious Heroes Take Off

//Location: The Council Chambers

“This could very well be a trap--”

“Agreed, we shouldn't let this Sith go anywhere outside of this temple--”

“--no! We let her stay here, and we invite an attack. Instead, we need to--”

“Didn't she claim to be the sister of--”

“As much as I'd love to listen to all of you bicker,” interrupted Exahlia, “My time really is of the essence here.”

“Yes, yes, Sith, we are well aware of you and your supposedly sick companion.”

The Pureblood kept herself composed, though she desired nothing more than to cut off every Council member's head. Honestly, they seemed to have as much infighting as her brethren! 

“Not supposedly. He could be taking his dying breath any _second_ now. Which is why I need your Barsen'thor to heal him! You all can squabble later, when we're _done._ ”

“I see no reason to believe the word of a Sith, least of all a Pureblood like her.”

Exahlia's hackles were raised, but before she could utter another word, the woman felt someone gently touch her arm. Looking to her side, she saw Vyr'ago step forward. 

“Masters, need I remind you of my Padawan, who was this one's sister? A Pureblood as well, born a Sith even. And yet, I would say Endytine was as much a Jedi to her dying breath as any one of us in this room.” The Jedi looked pointedly at the older Master who'd spoken. “To judge one purely by their blood, or race, or name, or any other unchangeable factor goes against the Jedi way.”

Vyr'ago began pacing in front of the Council. “This Sith is by no means innocent, believe me. It is not her innocence I advocate now, but rather her sincerity -- at least, in this circumstance.” The Jedi woman straightened up, hands clasped behind her back. “From the moment Lord Exahlia first landed, to standing here in this room, I have sensed no deceit or dubious intent regarding her plea for assistance.” 

“It wasn't a _plea,_ exactly,” muttered Exahlia. The woman ignored her. 

“Need I remind the Council of my actions and deeds which led you to granting _me_ the title of Barsen'thor? Need I remind you of everything I've done, and accomplished?” She paused, drawing a breath. “Pride, and overestimation of oneself have led to the downfall of many a Jedi. I have seen, just as you have, what has happened to those lost souls. But I assure you, Master Jedi, that I have a strong enough sense of what I am and am not capable of, to confidently say that I am willing to go with this woman and heal her associate.”

Exahlia had to admit, she was thoroughly impressed with the speech given by the woman. Enough to assure her that she'd come to the right person. And based on the faces of the other Jedi, it was clear Vyr'ago had swayed them to her side. 

“I still don't trust the Sith,” said one of the Masters. “I suggest that Master Billaba be made to check in every few hours, to ensure her safety.”

“Yes, yes, yes, that's fine, whatever. Can we go now? Master Billaba, time really _is_ of the essence.”

“I'm not done,” he continued. “How many people, aside from you, are aboard your ship?”

“Just two others,” Exahlia fired back impatiently. “My pilot, and my _dying_ associate.”

“Good. Then before we allow our Barsen'thor to board your ship, I _also_ suggest that your pilot stay back until Master Billaba has returned safely. Only until then will you have your pilot back.” 

The Pureblood scowled. Malavai meant the world to her, but so did Vette. And Vette would not be happy to be left behind. Yet that seemed the quickest way to ensure Quinn's survival. _Forgive me, Vette._

“One condition. You give my pilot whatever she wants, within reason.” Exahlia smirked. “I'm sure she'd love to see Tython's countryside.”

The Masters murmured amongst themselves. “ _Within_ reason, yes. Master Billaba, you may follow her out so that she may call her ship.”

*****  
“You _what!?_ ” 

“It's temporary, Vette!” A few feet away, the Barsen'thor and her escorts watched on in amusement. “Just until I'm done with the Jedi. It was the only way given our time constraint.”

“You could’ve still asked me! Who else is going to pilot this ship?”

“I happen to think I’m a decent enough pilot, thank you.” Exahlia crossed her arms, scowling at the Twi’lek. “Besides, as I said, time if of the essence.” Her scowl changed into an amused smirk. “Don’t worry, though -- the council has agreed to my term of granting whatever desire you have.”

“ _Within_ reason,” Vyr’ago piped up. The Sith waved her hand in the air dismissively.

“Yes, yes, within reason. I know you’re a very reasonable person, Vette, so I’m not too concerned about it.” Exahlia reached out her hand to Vette, pulling her close.

“Do try to be on your best behavior,” she whispered. “And if I don’t come back, you have my blessing to wreak absolute havoc on everyone in your sight.”

“You’re going to come back, even if I have to steal a fancy Sith ritual book and bring you back myself,” Vette responded in a low voice. With a loud sigh, the Twi’lek released the Pureblood’s hand and moved forward. “Well,” she added loudly, “If I’m going to be stuck here, I demand a large bottle of your best rum, and the finest steak this rock has to offer.”

“We’re Jedi,” one of the Jedi guardians responded. “We don’t drink, so I hope you’re able to settle for some blue milk.”

Exahlia and the Barsen’thor left Vette’s horrified look behind as they boarded the ship side by side. 

*****

Exahlia gave the Jedi an edited version of what happened, explaining how they were tasked to investigate a holocron found at an Imperial dig site, only to have the holocron possess her apprentice.  
“...which is how I ended up with two of my people missing, and my Captain like… _this._ ”

Quinn was even paler now, his skin pallid and the visible veins a nasty hue of purple. An occasional sharp exhale would hiss out of his lips, and his eyelids fluttered as if trapped in a nightmare. 

Vee slowly reached out a hand to touch the Imperial, her skin crawling from the energy in the air. It was awful, the taint so thick she could almost taste it. The moment their skin made contact, a wave of nausea and violent vertigo hit the Jedi like a brick wall. She retracted quickly, eyes narrowed in concern. “Force Corruption,” she blurted out.

“...pardon?”

“He’s suffering from some kind of Force Corruption. It’s-- I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s like a raw form of it, undiluted. Quite frankly, the fact that he hasn’t died yet is nothing short of a miracle. Your Captain here is a strong man.”

Exahlia couldn’t help but reach out and stroke his cheek with her thumb. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Vee almost swore that his head twitched, ever so slightly, in the Sith’s direction. “Why do you have such a strong reaction to it, but I don’t?”

“You have spent every living moment of your life entrenched in the dark side, whereas I don’t encounter it all too often. Tell me, how did you feel standing on Tython?”

The Sith curled her lip. “Like I was in a sterile room, stripped and bathed in a painfully blinding light.”

“Exactly.”

“So you’re saying I’ve built up an immunity.”

“I suppose so, yes.”

Exahlia sighed through her nose. “Next question, is there anything we can do to cure him?”

“The Healers on Voss may be able to. After all, they kind of owe me a favor.”

“But Voss will take nearly a _month_ to get to, we don’t have that kind of time!” The Sith bared her teeth. “They’re heading to Yavin 4. Even with stopping to refuel, they’ll be there in a week! It’ll take us a week and half if we’re lucky!”

“We may still be able to catch them. Do you know why your apprentice is heading there?”

“No, I have no karking idea why my possessed apprentice could possibly wish to travel to Yavin 4. I can tell you she had no desire to go there prior to this whole conundrum.”

Despite the sass, Vee could tell the Pureblood was at least being truthful about this. Though she still hadn’t sensed any outright deception, the Jedi could tell there were things being left out. Instead of saying anything about it, she just sighed. Then immediately wondered why it seemed everyone was sighing.

Dispelling those thoughts from her head with a slight shake, she said, “This ship is fully fueled and equipped to handle long journeys, correct? Which means we won’t have to make any stops.” Blue eyes, deep like the ocean, met twin suns burning with emotion. “I have an idea, but it will involve me putting my life in your hands. Can I do that? Can I trust you, Lord Exahlia of the Sith?”

“If it means bringing back Quinn, then I will destroy all the worlds in the galaxy to keep you safe, Barsen’thor.”

“...I doubt you’ll need to go that far, but I appreciate it. Do you have a mat?”


	9. Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, Into The Void We Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I'm just going to add a quick note about this chapter here... It's definitely different than what you'd normally encounter in Star Wars, I suppose. I was worried that it would become too "mystical," even when we have things like Abeloth, the Nightsisters, those weird Father/Son/Daughter people, and then of course the stuff on the Sith side and in the flashpoints of the SWTOR game. It was fun for me to write (duh, it's like 9 full pages in Google Docs), so I only hope it's just as fun for you all to read.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> -Blue

//Location: The Deadly Nexu

Vee fluffed the pillow she was to kneel down on, her Jedi robes replaced with a simple tunic and pants. For the thousandth time, she wondered exactly what the hell she was doing. How in the world did she end up here, on a Sith Pureblood’s ship - in fact the _same_ Pureblood who was her late Padawan’s sister, more than likely murderer too - getting ready to dive into the mind of an Imperial captain who was more than likely the lover of that same Sith? Somebody out there was getting a good laugh, that’s for sure. 

Even so. All of the signs were pointing to this being a monumental opportunity, one which destiny would not allow her to escape. Whether or not she liked it. The only thing soothing her mind was that her old friend Qyzen would be waiting for them on Yavin 4. She’d made sure to send a message herself to the Trandoshan before getting ready for…this.

_This,_ in fact, was a technique the Healers had also taught her, though they warned her many times of the dangers. Their name for it was unpronounceable to her, so she assigned it her own - the Mind Jumper. As in, Vyr’ago was about to jump into the sick, poisoned mind of Captain Quinn in an attempt to salvage his mind. 

Suppressing a shudder, the Jedi settled herself onto the pillow, then rubbed her face in apprehension. Reaching out, she placed both of her hands on the man’s forehead, then closed her eyes.

Immediately, she felt as though she was being choked, or perhaps drowned. Either way, wave after wave of thick, viscous _evil_ crashed over her head, threatening to claim her as a victim. It...it was almost like the Nightmare Lands on Voss. With the resurgence of those memories came a renewed effort to push back against them. With a final push, the Jedi was able to break through the horrifying darkness and stumbled into new scenery. Pausing only to gasp for breath, Vee made her way forward, surveying the land. Yes, it was almost exactly like the Nightmare Lands, yet somehow darker, more evil, more… _primal._

The Jedi couldn’t help but wonder, though, if perhaps this was her doing. One thing the Healers had warned her of was the malleability of the mindscape -- and how her presence there could wreak havoc on the mind of the person she was intruding upon, should she not be careful. Perturbed by the thought of already making ripples, Vee began to call on the Force -- and then stopped. She wouldn’t be able to access the Force here, but that didn’t mean she was helpless. So instead, the woman focused more on her immediate aura. Moving her hands slowly, she imagined herself gripping the fabric of the surrounding area, and wrapped it around herself. It wasn’t the same as actually cloaking herself in the Force (something that all Shadows were trained to do) but Vee hoped it would still allow her to hide nonetheless, not only from probing eyes but also from more...supernatural forces. 

Newly hidden, the woman moved forward, one hand on her saber. Unlike in the Nightmare Lands, however, there were dark, violet-colored...veins, for a lack of a better word, pulsating on the forest floor. They ran off as far as the eye could see, with the thickness and direction of the pulses suggesting they were spreading _outwards_ from something; which also meant if she followed them in the right direction, she’d be able to find the source and hopefully terminate it. 

Vyr’ago trudged forward, somehow not yet giving up hope on finding this Quinn. A part of her wanted to call out, however something told her that was the best way to get herself killed. And who even knew how long she had _really_ been here. Time felt different, like it was suspended. Or perhaps nonexistent. The only reassurance she really had was that the Sith’s voice was not yet ringing in her ears, so she still had some time yet. 

After what seemed like ages, the faint sounds of blasterfire and snarling caught her attention. Picking up her pace, the Jedi followed the noises until she came upon a clearing. Several hellish beasts, never before seen by her, snarled and spat as they paced in a circle. In the center was a bedraggled figure. No, wait, bedraggled wasn’t even a good enough word to describe the man’s appearance. His clothes were bloody, muddy, and nearly torn to shreds (except in the places that counted, of course). Several ugly scratches marred his filthy skin, adding to the multitudes of scars already there. His shaggy black hair was long, and tied back into a messy topknot, strands of it flying around his face. A scraggly, unkempt beard covered half of the man’s face, though they didn’t conceal his mouth as he swore right back at the creatures. In his hand was a blaster, somehow impeccably clean and standing in sharp contrast to its owner. Red bolts shot out from it one after the other at the creatures, seeming to never end. 

No doubt, this was her man. The one she’d been sent to rescue. And clearly he needed help. 

With a deep inhale, Vyr’ago sprinted forward, breaking her cloak as she activated her lightsaber. At the sound of the familiar hum, Quinn looked over at her, his momentary joy quickly replaced with confusion - and then pain, as one of the monstrosities took the opportunity to lash out. 

It was strange, not being able to immerse herself in the Force like she usually did, but the Jedi had nearly a decade of experience and practical application of wielding the same lightsaber -- which meant she was still able to use it with little to no difficulty, Force or no Force. The icy-blue blades spun through the air as she twirled and slashed her saberstaff, doing in a matter of a few minutes what the man had been attempting for who knew how long. 

Once all of the creatures were dead, Vee sheathed her weapon and turned to look at Quinn, who was holding a piece of fabric to his arm and wincing. Looking up at her, he asked, “Are you another one of these blasted visions? A Jedi, conjured by my own mind to come and finish me off?”

“Jedi? Yes. Hallucination? No.”

“I see.” He hobbled over to a boulder protruding from the ground and carefully sat down on it. “This is the first time this hellscape was a forest like this. Usually it’s the sands of Korriban, or an overrun Imperial ship. Sometimes even Balmorra. But always those same creatures. Always hunting after me. But I’m afraid I’ve grown weaker, you see. Always getting weaker with every passing second. I don’t know how long I’ve been like this, been trapped here. It feels like months. Days. Years. Ages. It could be a decade, could be a week. I have no idea. I don’t even know how--”

“My name is Jedi Master Vyr’ago Billaba,” she interrupted, cutting off his rambling. “You must be Quinn. Your Sith Lord, Exahlia, requested my assistance in saving you. You’ve been infected with a unique strain of Force Corruption. It’s trapped you in your mind, and is slowly killing you. I also believe the change of scenery is my fault. This is a slightly different version of the Nightmare Lands in Voss; I’ve had the misfortune to travel there a few times.”

“Lia sent you, hm?” Quinn nodded slowly, eyes closed. For a moment, there was a soft, wistful smile visible underneath his beard. “Yes, all that makes sense. I used to think of her a lot, you know. When I was first trapped here. She’d always sit down with me, keep me company. Kept me sane. My Lia. You know I never thought I’d fall for a Sith, but she’s so different from all of the ones I’ve served under. Even Baras. I don’t know how long ago that she stopped appearing. I miss her. Sometimes I wondered if she finally decided she didn’t want to be with someone who was serving as a double agent.” The Imperial paused in his monologue, giving the Jedi a look. “I was reporting her actions back to her master, Baras. Out there in the real world. Nobody was supposed to know, not even her, yet she still somehow found out. And stayed. Didn’t do anything to me, you see. Kept me on even though she knew I was a liability for her. I don’t quite mind telling you Jedi, whether or not you’re real. We’re going to die in here anyway. Not that I’m going to die fighting. I hope you’re of the same mind.”

“Well actually,” Vee replied, already tired of listening to him talk, “I know how to free you and get rid of this corruption. But I’m going to need your help.” She gestured to the ground. “See those veins? If we follow them, we’ll be able to get to the source of all this, and if we can destroy that, we can get out of here.”

“Oh, I already know where the heart is.” The Jedi blinked at him in surprise. 

“You do?”

“Yes. It’s like this internal compass. I can sense where the center of all this nasty business is. I just haven’t been there in a while.”

“Why not?”

“The entire base of operations is crawling with nightbeasts-- er, those things you just killed. Way more than I could ever handle, even when I was at full strength. I couldn’t even get close enough to scope out the entire premises; those things seemed to be able to sense me from impossibly far distances.”

Vyr’ago frowned, running a thumb over her chin as she thought for a moment. “I think I know a way to get in, but you’re going to have to do everything I say. Can you do that?”

For the first time since meeting him - which admittedly wasn’t that long ago - Quinn smiled. “I’ve always been good at following orders, I think. Except for that one time, but those orders were horrendous and would have killed hundreds of people.”

Vee blinked. “I promise at most, this may kill us two.”

“I can live with that.”

Several minutes later (or was it?), Vyr’ago and Quinn were walking in a line, with the man grasping the back of her tunic firmly. She’d managed to hide the two of them within the fabric of reality, but unlike Quinn, she didn’t know if he could pull himself out. Hence, him holding onto her shirt. 

“I’ve been told the whole reason for this mess was because your Sith’s apprentice was possessed by a holocron.”

“Indeed.”

“Do you know who it belonged to?”

There was a long pause, causing the Jedi to purse her lips. “Look, Quinn, I’m sure you’d like to keep it secret. But this information could very well be the difference between life and death, not only for you but for the galaxy if we can’t stop Exahlia’s apprentice. So I’ll ask again, who did the holocron belong to?”

“Some Sith alchemist named Sorzus Syn. She died a long time ago.”

Vee had to fight the urge to look around at Quinn in incredulity. “Sorzus Syn? _The_ Sorzus Syn?”

“...yes?”

“This is not good, not good at all.”

“May I ask why?”

 

She let out a long sigh. “Sorzus Syn was one of the original Dark Jedi, cast out of the Order and exiled for life because of their beliefs. At first, the Order didn’t know what happened to them, and assumed they died, but since the Empire and Republic first interacted, we’ve since learned that in fact the Dark Jedi didn’t just survive - they took over the Purebloods and established what is now known as the Empire. She also apparently had a thing for alchemy, and creating abominations -- no doubt like those nightbeasts of yours.”

“Oh my.”

“Yeah. So the fact that it’s _her_ holocron, and _her_ Corruption currently killing you from the inside out, not only explains a lot of things but also makes our job that much harder.”

“That’s...unfortunate.”

“No kidding.”

They walked on for a few more minutes, before Vee decided to break the silence again.

“So how long have you and Exahlia been a thing?”

Though she couldn’t see him, Vee could sense his surprise. “How’d you know that? Did Lia tell you?”

“...no? You did, when I first met you.”

“Oh. Right.” He cleared his throat. “It’s been so long since I’ve had anyone to talk to. Er, anyway, I would say perhaps seven standard months prior to this mess? It was strange at first, she was the one to pursue me. Simple flirting at first that...ah...evolved. You know how it goes...uh...well, perhaps not--”

“Yes, actually, I do.”

“You do? But you’re a Jedi, I thought attachments weren’t allowed?”

“I’m married, if that answers your question. Three happy years with a lieutenant, though we don’t get to see each other as much as we’d like. And, no, the Council doesn’t know, nor do they need to. We both understand where our primary loyalties lie.”

“...I see. Moving on, I first figured she was simply using me as a way to blow off steam. Not that I was without a choice.”

“What do you mean?”  
“Sith have a habit of simply...taking what they so desire. Or destroying it if they can’t have it. Yet not once has Lia ever forced me to do something against my will. I’ve always had the choice to walk away without consequences. Oh, move a degree or two right. There you go. She’s like that with all of us. Oh she’s definitely ruthless and bloodthirsty, believe me. But she also encourages us to be our own people, and fosters an environment where we can speak out -- within reason, of course.”

“Exahlia sounds like a unique Sith. Soft, even, by their standards.”

She felt his grip tighten. “No. Not soft. She is capable of compassion, dare I say love, but she is not soft. No, I know she is capable of love. She loves me. I love her. It’s strange.”

“Oh?”

“I would have never expected I’d fall in love with a Sith. They don’t have a reputation for being selfless enough for a healthy relationship.”

“And yet here you are.”

“Yet here I am. We need to move a little more left.”

After that, the conversation died down, both of them trudging on in complete silence. Have no doubt, there were still plenty of things to talk about. However there was a palpable shift in the air, a heaviness that continued to grow with every step. 

“We’re almost there,” whispered Quinn. “This is amazing. We haven’t encountered a single nightbeast.”

“I imagine it helps to avoid them when you’re cloaked in the very fabric of the mindscape’s reality.”

“Fair point. Look, that castle up ahead. That’s where the epicenter is.”

Vyr’ago could feel it, too. The nausea she’d fought against when first arriving now threatened to bubble back up, taking all of her strength to keep it at bay. “I can tell,” she forced out. “Let’s keep mo--”

All of the sudden, the pair were ripped out of their space and transported into a large hall dripping with decay. Thick cobwebs coated in dust hung from the ceiling and archways. Stone walls were chipped and cracked, with dead or dying vines snaking across them. In the center of it was a large, pulsing violet heart, from which dozens of veins shot out into the darkness. 

“There it is,” Vyr’ago whispered. “That’s where the infection started. That’s what we need to kill.”  
“The only killing that will be done, is by me.”

With a nasty sound, like someone pulling a limb out of goopy bog mud, Exahlia stepped out of the weird, misshapened heart. Or at least, it was a version of Exahlia. An extremely lethal looking, extremely elegant, and _fatally attractive_ Exahlia. Her hair was tightly braided on top of her head, and her body was draped in a black gown accentuated with gold that somehow only enhanced her dangerous beauty. On either arm was a gold snake coiled up the lengths of her biceps, and she wore gold and black makeup that for some reason actually worked really well with her features. Attached to a golden belt wrapped around her waist was a lightsaber, its hilt made of a shiny, dark-grey metal with golden undertones. Yet despite all of this, the Pureblood wore no shoes. _A sensible move,_ Vee found herself thinking. _No doubt any shoes that would go well with that outfit of hers would be a pain to fight in. Wait. Why am I thinking about this now?_

“Oh, Malavai,” the Elegant Exahlia murmured, her eyelids half-closed. “Why would you do this? Why would you come here to get yourself killed, rather than letting yourself die out in the wilds like a good pet? It would have made things so much easier.”

A muscle twitched on the side of Quinn’s cheek. “You’re not my Lia,” he said hoarsely, gritting his teeth. “My Lia hates dressing up if she doesn’t need to.”

In a heartbeat, the apparition of Exahlia was next to the Imperial, a bright red talon tracing itself across his chin. “Darling, who ever said I didn’t need to dress up? This is a special occasion, is it not?”

Apprehension jolted through Vee’s heart and instinctively she grabbed Quinn, flinging him behind her. At the same time, her other hand raised up and activated her double blades, catching Exahlia’s red one, sending sparks flying. “So, you’ve managed to use the Force without actually using the Force. Interesting,” the Sith purred. “Unfortunately for you, it won’t be enough.” With a snarl, she pushed against the Jedi’s blade and the two began to spar. 

It was like a dance, really. A deadly dance, with both participants gracefully trying to kill each other. Blue clashed against red, back and forth. A furious storm of corruption battering against unwavering determination. Dark against light. The age-old fight, played out over and over on every planet across every century. Even now, a fight to the death. 

The fight drew on for a while, neither side gaining or losing any ground. That all changed when Exahlia managed to knock Vee’s feet from under her, causing the Jedi to tumble backwards and fall. With a triumphant crow, the crazed Sith held her lightsaber up high, intent on driving it into the heart of her foe-- 

When all of the sudden, the Sith let out a guttural cry of pain, stumbling back as she gripped her abdomen. Vee turned to see Quinn standing up, his blaster aimed at the heart and a fresh black mark on its surface. “Well,” he said softly, “It doesn’t seem to like being shot at.” 

“Don’t stop, Quinn!” the Jedi shouted. “You’ve got to keep shooting it, I’ll keep her occupied!”

“What are you doing?!” Exahlia hissed. 

“Rooting out the problem.” Vee leapt back to her feet, charging towards the Sith. Never before had she experienced such anticipation in a long time. It felt like ages ago when she’d fought the Child of the Emperor, her possessed former Master. Ages ago that she saved the Republic from the clutches of evil. And now, here she was, fighting for not only her life but the life of an enemy, to help the lover of that enemy (who arguably was a greater threat) in order to stop the enemy of that enemy. Only instead of that enemy of the enemy being a friend, she was instead a _greater_ enemy! Honestly, the whole thing was strange enough to make one’s head hurt. And it was something she didn’t need to be concentrating on right now. 

Despite ever so slightly being weakened with every shot Quinn made to the heart, Exahlia was still a formidable foe. They continued to go back and forth until finally, letting out a loud cry of agony, the Sith fell to her knees, arms wrapped around herself. The heart had begun throbbing ever more quickly, the _whump-whump_ noises echoing in the dilapidated hall. In the distance, chilling howls could be heard, signalling the arrival of those dreaded nightbeasts. 

Vee looked at Quinn. One more shot would likely finish this whole thing. So why wasn’t he firing?

“Quinn, what are you doing?”

_Barsen’thor._

The Jedi’s eyes widened. Her time was up. Any moment now she’d be pulled back into the waking world, regardless of if her mission was done or not.

“Quinn, if you want to go back home, you _need_ to finish this!”

A low, spine-tingling laugh dripped from Exahlia’s lips. “He can’t,” she sneered. “He can’t bring himself to kill his beloved Lia, even if this is all just in his head.”

“I--I--” 

_Barsen’thor, you need to wake up. It’s time._

“Look, Quinn! She’s not Exahlia - she’s not _your_ Lia. She’s a figment created by Syn’s corruption, she’s not real!” Vee stepped forward. “You’re the only one who can end this. If you don’t shoot that heart, if you don’t finish this _now,_ we will _die,_ the real Exahlia will _die,_ Vette will be left rotting in a Republic prison, everyone. Will. Die.”

_Damn Jedi, wake up!_

Vee’s vision started to blur as the snarling beasts drew closer and closer. “I don’t have much time left. Do it, Quinn!”

“Don’t! You’ll kill me, and be all alone in this pathetic hellscape!” Exahlia began crawling towards the Imperial, her hair in disarray. “Don’t you love me, Malavai? Don’t you want to be with me?”

“I do…”

The Jedi’s head whipped back, causing her to stumble. “Quinn, I swear on my title of Barsen’thor that it is _imperative_ you shoot that goddamned heart!”

“Malavai, don’t listen to her! She’s trying to punish us, you see? Punish us for taking her beloved Padawan!”

“What?” Vee stared at the Sith. “What do you mean?”

The Pureblood grinned at her, yellow eyes glowing and teeth stained with blood. “Oh how precious, she doesn’t even know how her Padawan died!”

Her head began to swim, and her vision darkened. The nightbeasts clawed at the doors keeping them from entering, which were already buckling under their efforts. 

_Wake. Up!_

“Quinn, Exahlia misses you!”

“I miss her too.” 

As her vision completely faded, and her body slumped to the floor, Vee could have sworn she heard the sound of a blaster going off as the doors gave way to the beasts, and the fake Exahlia screamed.


End file.
